This is a song about "Excuses shit"

You don't mean that, you faggot

What you wrote doesn't mean shit

Inked up on my hands and arms, got them jams in my pocket

Shit i represent is killin' niggas and shit

Don't be afraid, it's just a kiss

So save your excuses

I could spend a whole damn advance on some kicks and some pants son

Don't make any excuses, you want to care for the children

I searched but couldnt see shit

Well, i can handle that

Blubber and shit in the cupboard and shit

Convertible coupe, bitches scream when they tops split

I'm stuck with that

Talks to herself and shit

Give me it holy shit

After that moscato hit